Page 39 of Desperate Games

“Yes, I want your cock. I need you to make me come on your big dick, Remy. Please,” she says.

And I’m through waiting.

I push inside.

Andy moans.

So do I.

I’m already half out of my mind, and I still have most of my clothes on.

Not for long.

She sits up, wrapping her legs around me as she pushes my waistband down like a woman possessed, unbuckling, unzipping, tugging me completely free as I kick off my button down and tie.

My cock thumps inside of her, but I’m not moving until I’m touching as much of her body as I can with my own.

Her eyes go wide as she traces my tattoos, and I have one second to bask in the glow of her attention before I can’t take it anymore.

“You’re so damn sexy,” she breathes.

“You too, Baby,” I rasp, pulling out all the way then lining myself back up.

“God, I forgot how good this feels.”

“Yeah? I’ll make sure you never forget this time,” I grunt.

Then I ram inside her.

Deep. Tight. Wet. Perfect.

Home.

And she implodes.

That’s two.

Andy arches, clings to me, her pussy still squeezing as her orgasm crescendos.

I fuse my lips to hers, and she moans into my mouth as I hold still, allowing her to come down a little before I begin to thrust, slow at first.

Then I go harder, and her nails dig into my back. Her hips meet mine like we’re dancing to a rhythm only our bodies understand.

My mind races with how good this feels and how much I want it to last—not just the moment—this. Us.

The front door’s still unlocked.

The windows are open.

And I don’t give a fuck.

Because the only thing that matters is Andrea.

The way she wraps around me like we were made for this.

The way her body pulses around mine like she doesn’t want to let go.

The way she sobs my name when she comes a third time—and drags me right over the edge with her.